


A New Home

by MonPetitTresor



Series: Raise Him Right [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Kid Sam, Mentions of past abuse, Nightmares, Panic, Sam Winchester Needs a Hug, Scared Sam, caring Tony, he really does, tony tries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 14:51:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15865857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MonPetitTresor/pseuds/MonPetitTresor
Summary: Sam and Tony start the process of getting to know one another.





	1. Chapter 1

So many things had changed in just one night. That was all Sam Winchester could think as he sat on the end of his bed inside his brand new bedroom and stared around him in both shock and awe.

The bedroom Sam was in was larger than most of the hotel rooms that he’d ever been inside of. And there was no small kitchen, no multiple beds or couch or a TV or any of those other things that some of the nicer motel rooms had. This room had just one bed and a dresser, that was it, and all this _open space_ that Sam had no idea what to do with.

When Tony had shown him in here, announcing that this was going to be Sam’s new bedroom, he’d promised Sam, “We can fill it up with stuff you like later. We’ll have to go shopping, get you some clothes, and a whole bunch of other things.”

There hadn’t been anything that Sam could say to that. What do you say to some strange guy who’s offering you a bedroom the likes of which you’d only dreamed of, and promising to fill it with things? Things that Sam _liked_? Sam had been speechless, and it hadn’t taken long for that speechlessness to get awkward. Tony had excused himself pretty quickly, claiming he had to make a few calls to push along the paperwork Loki had brought with him, and he’d left Sam in here alone.

The young boy felt kind of like he was in a dream. That was the only thing that made any sense. This had to be a dream of some sort. There was _no way_ this was his life right now. He’d been traded off by his Dad to a pagan God for a weapon that would kill the thing that killed Mom. It wasn’t to save Dean’s life – he wasn’t even _missing_! – or to save Sam, or John, or anything like that. Sam could’ve understood that. No, it was just for a stupid weapon. For _revenge_.

As soon as he had the thought, Sam felt guilty. Finding out what killed Mom, and then killing _it,_ were the most important things in the Winchesters’ lives. It was more important than anything. More important than _Sam_ , definitely.

But… just, just giving him away? Just trading him off like that? Without any reassurance that Sam was going to be okay! Oh, sure, he’d made sure that Sam wasn’t going to be killed, but the Dad that Sam had always known never trusted the word of something he considered a monster – and anything that wasn’t human was a monster to Dad. So why had he trusted Loki? Or, an even worse thought: had he not trusted Loki and just not cared? That thought made Sam feel like he was going to throw up.

The night had gotten stranger after that. Loki had taken Sam away, promised to care for him, let him _sleep_ , and then – _then_ Loki had brought Sam _here_.

Sam twisted his hand to stare down at the rune that was now marking his wrist. Loki had acted like he’d wanted Sam, that he wanted him around, but he’d gotten rid of him pretty quickly, too. Taken Sam to a complete stranger and left him here with vague promises to be back. Sam knew better than to trust those. The only person who came back when they said they would was Dean.

Though Sam had to admit, of all people to be dropped off with like this, it was weird that it was this guy. Sam might not know him personally, but he knew the name. Who _didn’t_ know Tony Stark’s name? _Iron Man_. But that didn’t mean anything. It didn’t matter how famous this guy was or how much of a hero people said he was. Sam had met so-called _heroes_ in the past and being one hadn’t ever stopped them from having the same darkness inside that the monsters did. They just hid it better.

Sam was watching, though. He was going to watch this guy and wait and see what kind of darkness he hid. Was he a drinker? Did he like to hit? Did he believe _kids should be seen and not heard_? Was he like… was he like one of _those_ guys, the ones that would have Dean pulling Sam in close and keeping a sharp eye on him till they were gone? Or maybe… maybe he was like _him_ , the hunter that Dad had sent Sam to train with, the one who…. _no._ No. Sam forcibly pushed those thoughts down.

He needed to stop sitting here like an idiot and panicking. There was no Dean here to look out for Sam. He didn’t have Dean, didn’t have Loki – he didn’t have anyone. It was just him and this guy he didn’t even know. He needed to start _thinking_ and not _panicking_ like a stupid baby!

Still, Sam couldn’t help himself, not completely. He curled in a little tighter and hugged his knees close to his chest. Closing his eyes, he pressed his forehead to his knees to try and hide the tears that wanted to slip free. He wanted Dean back. He wanted his brother here with him to punch him the shoulder or mess up his hair and tell him to quit whining, that everything was going to be just fine. Dean always picked on him when he did it, but he always knew how to make Sam feel better at the same time.

“Master Sam?”

The strange voice jolted Sam so hard he almost fell down off his bed. His head shot up, and every inch of his small body was braced, hands clenching down on the sheets while his eyes ran a quick scan of the room. Even as he did, he remembered Mr. Stark talking to the voice in his ceiling, and telling Sam all about his AI, JARVIS.

“My apologies for scaring you,” JARVIS said, his voice a bit lower this time. There was a sort of… friendly sound to his voice. He sounded nice. Not fake-nice like some adults could pretend to be, or the weird-nice that other adults were. Just… nice. “I’ve taken the liberty of ordering an early lunch. Mr. Stark is currently laying the food out if you’d care to join him.”

Going out to eat with Mr. Stark wasn’t really on Sam’s list of things he wanted to do. But he wasn’t stupid enough to turn down free food. _If it really is free_.

Slowly, trying not to let his fear show, Sam uncurled himself from the bed. “Thank you, Mr. JARVIS.”

It took a little bit for Sam to remember his way through the house to get back to the living room. From there, JARVIS helped direct Sam through a hallway to the right of the room that curved ever so slightly before opening up into a bright dining room. The sight of the room had Sam stopping in place in the entryway. After seeing the rest of the house, and the modernistic design that Mr. Stark employed, the design in here shouldn’t have caught Sam as off guard as it had. Yet… it did.

The room was done in the same light wood and white walls of the rest of the place, plus a whole wall of windows that let in the sun and showed off the ocean outside. It was like walking into a museum or some futuristic sci-fi place, and Sam quickly drew his arms in and stuffed his hands down into his pockets for fear of getting something dirty or breaking something.

However, there was no food set out in here, and no Mr. Stark, either.

JARVIS spoke up before Sam had to ask. “Mr. Stark prefers not to eat in here unless there is company. If you’d continue through the door directly ahead of you, Master Sam, you’ll find yourself in the kitchen where Mr. Stark prefers to eat when not working.”

As soon as Sam opened the next door and went inside, he knew he was in the right spot. He could hear the sounds of movement, dishes being set down, and someone humming to themselves. There was some rock music playing that made Sam ache for his brother. He couldn’t help but think how Dean would’ve liked it here. He’d be impressed with all the technology, and the fact that an actual AI was running the place, and his personality would’ve fit in perfectly with what Sam had seen of Mr. Stark so far. Yeah… Dean would’ve fit in great here, just like he did pretty much anywhere else. It’d always been Sam who was the odd duck out. _I should’ve had Loki bring Dean here and send_ me _to the boys home. Loki and Mr. Stark would both like Dean. Everyone always does. He’d be a better fit here._

Sam curled his arms around himself and tried to push away those thoughts. They weren’t helping.

He stepped further into the room, and his eyes got a bid wide as the hallway opened up into a massive kitchen. There were white floors and white marble countertops, with black cupboards and shiny silver appliances. The lighting was a bit darker in here, but it didn’t make it feel cold or clinical. Sam was surprised at just how warm the room felt. There was more life in here than there had been anywhere else so far.

On the far right of the room was a set of doors that were opened up to a patio. One that looked like it had another amazing ocean view. On that patio was where Mr. Stark was at, laying down a few dishes on a white table.

Sam cautiously made his way over there, taking in everything as he went. The table, which was filled with a bunch of white boxes, and as he got closer he could see the L-shaped bench that surrounded the table. Just as Sam reached the door, Mr. Stark straightened up and turned around to look at him. A huge smile lit up the guy’s face and made him seem a whole lot more approachable. “Sam! Good, glad you could join us, kiddo. I was just getting everything set up. Come on, come out here and get comfortable. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving!”

The last time Sam had eaten had been that small pastry this morning when he’d still been with Loki. He’d definitely gone longer on less, but he wasn’t going to say no to food.

Mr. Stark watched him the way that adults did when they were trying to pretend they _weren’t_. Under his eye, Sam slipped down onto the bench on the seat closest to the door, just like Dean taught him. Easiest route to the exit.

Once Sam was sitting, Mr. Stark took his own seat, keeping a distance between them that let Sam relax a little more. “Help yourself,” he told Sam. “There’s no one else here, no reason to stand on ceremony. Just dig in. I got enough to feed about five adults, so I figure it should be enough for me and a growing kid. Kids eat a lot, right? I remember hearing something like that before, I think. People always joke about kids eating them out of house and home. Not that you’d be able to.” The grin the man wore flashed even brighter at that. He scooped up one of the boxes and brought it over to his plate. “You eat that much, and I’d be pretty impressed.”

Sam blinked up at him, not quite sure what to make of all that. The way that Mr. Stark talked was… different. “You were a kid once,” Sam pointed out hesitantly.

“How do you know?” Mr. Stark shot back. “Maybe I sprang up from the earth with all this perfect already ready to go.”

The way he said it, the grin and the laughter in his eyes, reminded Sam so much of Dean, he didn’t stop to think about his snort until after it slipped out. Panic gripped Sam as he realized what he’d done. Only, it didn’t get a chance to take root. Mr. Stark was already laughing, not the least bit bothered, and that drained away the tension.

Mr. Stark winked at him and pointed a chopstick Sam’s way. “See? Sassy little shit.”

The fact that he didn’t sound mad when he said that took the sting out of it. Mostly.

After another reminder from Mr. Stark to ‘dig in’, Sam pulled over the box closest to him. He found something that looked like chicken inside. It didn’t smell the best, but it was food, and he served some onto his plate. At the look Mr. Stark gave him, Sam took another box and served himself some of the rice from in there, too. That seemed to make the man happy enough. He gave a nod and then immediately started talking, pausing only to put bits of his own chicken into his mouth.

“So, I’m thinking we’ll go ahead and kind of settle in today, get you a bit more comfortable in here, and then tomorrow we could pick you up a few new things,” Mr. Stark said, waving his chopsticks around. “We’ll get you some clothes, some stuff for your room, all that jazz. I’ll have JARVIS make a list for us. I’m not sure what you’ll need, but I’m guessing it’s more than just the clothes on your back.”

“Indeed, sir. I’ve already started a list,” JARVIS informed them.

Mr. Stark looked pleased, but Sam twisted uncomfortably in his seat. He looked down at his plate and then up through his bangs. “You don’t have to do that, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony.” Lifting a chopstick, Mr. Stark pointed at Sam with it, mock scowling at him. His eyes were crinkled and bright, though, and Sam had learned to trust eyes more than smiles or anything else. “I’m gonna break you of this whole ‘Mr. Stark’ nonsense.”

“Yes, sir.”

The dry look Tony gave him for that almost had Sam smiling. Instead, he quickly ducked his head down and poked at the rice on his plate with his fork, trying to let his hair hide any sign of a smile that might’ve slipped through. Above him, he heard Mr. Stark – Tony – snort. “Like I said before, _sassy_. I get the feeling you’re gonna keep me on my toes.”

“So why’d you take me in?” The question was out before Sam could stop it. He froze, fork still spearing the next piece of chicken, and he wished desperately he could take the words back. They were already out there, though, and Sam cringed. Still, he’d already said it. He might as well finish it. Lifting his eyes again, he watched Tony through his bangs. “Why’d you take me in? You don’t know me, an you don’t know Loki. I’m not stupid – I know he just picked you. You didn’t have to say yes.”

Tony surprised Sam by setting his chopsticks down. He didn’t pretend to answer Sam’s question or brush it off, or any of the things lots of adults liked to do. No – instead, he set his stuff down and folded his arms on the table, giving Sam his full attention. The laughter was gone from his eyes. They were just as serious as the rest of him. It kind of reminded Sam of Uncle Bobby – he never lied to Sam, never tried to give him the easy answers to make him feel better.

“The truth, kiddo? I’m not really sure,” Tony admitted. He tilted his head and studied Sam’s face. “I can pretty much guarantee everyone’s gonna think I’ve lost my mind. Me, taking in a kid? They’ll think I’m crazy, and that’s without knowing the whole ‘alien prince’ and ‘oh yeah this kid has magic’ that’s going on. The whole ‘monsters are real’ bit, well, we’re not even gonna touch on _that_ one. I’m still having a hard time wrapping my brain around it all.”

Sam deliberately ignored the ‘oh yeah this kid has magic’ comment. He wasn’t sure he was ready to think about that right now.

Not that he had long to think on it. Tony was still talking, and Sam was focused entirely on his words.

“The thing is… none of that really mattered, I guess. Your… Loki… he told me about the life you were living, and how he got you, and he told me that you needed help. That you needed somewhere safe. Somewhere that you’d be safe from whatever creatures or assholes come after you, and where you’re not gonna be judged for learning magic or whatever. To be honest…” Tony paused, like he wasn’t quite sure, before his jaw firmed and he barreled on. “You could’ve been the most annoying little shit on the planet, and I still would’ve taken you in. No one deserves the life you’ve had, kiddo.”

A lump built in Sam’s throat. He didn’t argue Tony’s words, though he knew better. His Dad had made sure he’d known better, once Sam knew the truth about the supernatural. He’d been drunk enough to not mince words, and he’d let Sam know just how much of their life was his fault. How Mom had been trying to save _him_ from whatever had come for him, and they’d lost her because of it.

It took a few tries for Sam to finally manage to get his voice to work right. It almost shut off completely – something that usually only happened when he was really, _really_ upset – but he managed to keep himself calm enough to not let that happen. He breathed just like Dean had taught him and made himself calm down. “So you just…” Sam paused, licking his lips, not quite sure why he needed to say this. Why he had to understand. “You just felt sorry for me?”

“Of course I did,” Tony didn’t even hesitate to admit that. “I would’ve felt sorry for any kid in your situation.”

That made sense. Sam nodded, accepting Tony’s words.

Tony wasn’t done, though. He leaned forward a little and caught Sam’s eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling sorry for you. Anyone who doesn’t, well, they’re not the kind of person you need to be around. Right now, all I’ve got to go off of is your story from Loki’s mouth, and our short conversation earlier. What I know about you is enough to make anyone feel sorry for you. But that doesn’t mean that’s all I’m ever gonna feel. Give it time, Sam.” One corner of his mouth quirked up. “We’re still getting to know each other.”

He was right. He couldn’t expect Tony to just start caring about him all of a sudden just because Loki dumped him here. Right now Tony only knew Loki’s story; he didn’t know anything else. And Sam was betting that Loki hadn’t kept much, or painted Dad in a very good light.

Sure, Loki had kind of taken to Sam quickly, and Sam really, really liked him. More than he’d thought he would. But Sam couldn’t expect Tony to be the same way.

They had to take the time to get to know each other. Time they were apparently going to have a lot of.

When Sam looked up again, Tony was smiling at him, and he’d picked up his chopsticks once more. Sam gave him a hesitant smile in return.

Everything in him told Sam that Ton had been honest just now. While he might not care about Sam like Loki did, he _did_ care.

For now, that was more than enough.

* * *

Their first day together was more than a little awkward. Sam did his absolute best to try and avoid Tony at all costs. When JARVIS directed Sam to the library, it got easier, because then at least Sam had something to do with his time. There were so many books here! And when Sam had hesitated, not quite sure, JARVIS had reassured him “You are quite welcome to read any of these, Master Sam.”

Books gave Sam something to do for the afternoon and kept him from having to interact with Tony until it was dinner time. Even then, their interactions weren’t exactly much of anything. Their earlier conversation sat in both their minds. Tony tried to talk to him, asking things like “So, what do you think?” and “Are you, uh… settling in okay?” but he seemed to accept Sam’s short answers and take them to mean that Sam wasn’t ready to talk. The rest of their meal was finished in silence, and Sam slipped away once they were done to go and hide with a few more books in his room.

All it all, it wasn’t the worst day Sam had ever had. Not by far. But it was definitely one of the most awkward.

As he curled up in his giant bed with a book in hand, Sam couldn’t help but wonder if things were going to get any easier. Absently he stroked at the mark on his wrist. The sign of protection and a silent promise from the being that Sam really, really wanted to trust.


	2. Chapter 2

Things hadn’t exactly gone any easier for Tony on that first day. He knew he probably should’ve spent a bit more time around the kid, but _holy hell_ , the _looks_ he got each time he tried to talk to Sam after their lunchtime feels-session! They were enough to have Tony wanting to take his suit out for a while and blast a few assholes just to take out his temper.

Everything that Loki and Tony had talked about had painted a pretty nasty picture for the kid. Hell, they’d painted a pretty nasty picture of the world – a world that Tony hadn’t even realized had so much he wasn’t even aware of. Reconciling his own worldview with one where the supernatural shit actually existed was enough to throw any guy off their game. Toss in a traumatized, scrawny kid, and yeah, it was going to make shit awkward.

So, Tony had done what was probably the cowardly thing, and he’d mostly left Sam to his own devices today. It gave Tony time to freak out a little, try and wrap his head even more around all that he’d learned, and to start the adoption process with his lawyer. It was a good thing Starks employed only the best. With Tony’s past, even having adoption papers already signed by John granting Tony full custody might not be enough. But Tony’s change of lifestyle helped, though his lawyer warned him that his status as Iron Man wasn’t going to work in their favor.

In another act of cowardice – and damn, he was really racking those up today, wasn’t he? – Tony withheld telling Pepper quite yet. Or anyone else. He wanted to make sure the paperwork was well on its way to being done before he had to deal with that storm. _Less chance of anyone trying to find a way to stop me. Can’t stop it if it’s already done._ With the Stark money to help him, Tony was pretty confident he could get the adoption done _fast_. Not that Tony necessarily approved of that kind of thing – buying people off just to get what he wanted, especially when a child’s welfare was at stake. But… it’d be stupid to protest it while it was working in his favor.

Normal adoption could take _months_. Sometimes even _years_ , his lawyer had warned him. With Tony’s money, that time was going to be cut in half. He’d still have to have someone from the state come out and check out his house, plus probably talk to Sam, and they’d have to officially go before a judge in a month or two. But with John having signed the papers, and with all the evidence JARVIS was collecting now to document that asshole’s neglect through the kid’s life, it was looking really good for Tony.

Plus, well, there was the part where Tony was pretty sure Loki would come to take things in hand if anyone tried to take Sam away.

Researching the Winchesters was proving to be a test in patience and control for Tony, though. Luckily, Loki had given Tony some of the aliases that the Winchesters had used. How he’d gotten them, Tony had no idea, nor did he think he wanted to know. However, with those JARVIS was able to start to piece together the patchwork of this kid’s early life. What he was coming up with wasn’t a pretty picture.

For the first six months of Sam’s life, things were pretty normal. Mom, Dad, brother, nice house, simple life. Then… then the death of Sam’s mother in a house fire that started in the boy’s nursery. The papers called it an electrical fire. According to Loki, it was likely a demon.

A _demon_. Fuck! Since when had this become Tony’s life?!

From that point on things got a bit spotty. There were random school records here and there, spread out all across the country. Sometimes they were in one spot for only a week or two, sometimes months. Other times there were gaps between transcripts where Tony guessed they’d been traveling or whatever, _hunting_ , and it looked like neither boy had been in school at all.

More concerning than all of that, though, were the _medical records_. Especially once Tony got some of the aliases and worked out a couple more. It helped once they got things mapped out and JARVIS was able to scan general areas and then scan photos and such. That brought them a few more fake names the Winchesters had used. It also brought with it the kind of information that had Tony wanting to put on his suit.

Like the broken arm when Sam was five. Sure, could’ve been just a kid thing, if it weren’t for the bruising around the break the doctors had made note of. Or the ‘wild animal attack’ just a year ago. There were other reports, other pictures, letters from teachers, all of them adding together to nothing good. Either John Winchester had been a careless hunter and allowed his boys to be repeatedly hurt, or he’d been the one hurting them. Maybe a mix of both. Or maybe it was the ‘training’ that Loki had mentioned.

There were other things that doctors had made a note of. Things that made Tony’s blood boil.

Worries about Sam’s weight, about his obvious lack of nutrients, and his suspicious lack of decent medical records. One doctor made a clear note about shots, which prompted Tony to ask JARVIS what he meant.

“Children receive multiple shots throughout childhood, for vaccinations,” JARVIS informed him. “While those from early infancy are present in Master Sam’s records, there are none there for him beyond one year of age. Nor are there any for his brother after that point, either.”

This asshole hadn’t even taken his kids in for medical check-ups and shots??

Tony lost himself for a while in his rage at what he and JARVIS were discovering. He had to take a break once to go and shoot a few things with his glove, just to get some of the rage out of his system. But he eventually came back, and he sat down to make plans. Plans were something Tony could do. It was a lot better than going out and committing cold-blooded murder.

He’d gotten so caught up in his plans, he’d barely realized just how much time passed. It wasn’t until JARVIS jerked him out of his head that Tony finally realized just how late it was. Unfortunately, the reason JARVIS pulled Tony out wasn’t a good one.

“Sir, Master Sam is showing signs of clear distress,” JARVIS informed him. That alone was enough to have Tony’s head snapping up. Then JARVIS kept going, and it only made Tony’s stomach sink. “He’s showing all the signs of a night terror.”

“Fuck,” Tony breathed out. He knew nightmares, and he knew what a bitch they could be. Night terrors were worse. “What do I do, J? I don’t know what to do! I barely handle my own nightmares. How the hell am I gonna help a kid with theirs?”

“You could try waking him and offering comfort,” JARVIS said dryly. “I imagine he might appreciate that after a nightmare.”

Go up and wake him up, offer comfort – yeah, sure Tony could do that. He could totally do that. That wasn’t hard, right? All he needed to do was do the same kind of stuff that he wanted someone to do for _him_ when _he_ woke up from a bad dream. Then again… maybe not. Tony doubted alcohol was quite the way to handle a kid’s nightmare.

 _Fuck_. He was going to have to wing it. “This is what you signed up for,” he reminded himself. “You’ve got at least seven and a half more years of this shit before he hits eighteen. Better get used to it now.”

That reassuring pep talk didn’t help Tony at all, but it did get him moving. He hurried up out of his workshop and in the direction of the bedrooms. There was a moment of hesitation at Sam’s bedroom door, a brief _what the hell am I doing?_ But Tony drew in a breath and forced himself to straighten up and reach out for the door.

Sam’s bedroom was dark, so it took a second for Tony’s eyes to adjust. Once they did, however, what he found was heartbreaking.

The bed showed clear signs of having been slept in, yet at first glance, Sam was nowhere in sight. It wasn’t until Tony looked closer that he found the boy on the ground _beside_ his bed, wrapped up in his comforter and curled into as tiny a ball as possible. He wasn’t shaking, wasn’t moving, wasn’t doing any of the usual things that showed when someone had a nightmare. But, as Tony got closer, he could see just how tight Sam’s face was, and the faint hint of tears. Tony stared down at the boy and felt his heart break all over again. “Aw, sweetheart.”

Tony didn’t hesitate anymore. He walked forward and went down to one knee beside Sam, one hand reaching out as he went. “Sam. Hey, Sam, kiddo, wake up…”

If it hadn’t been for his recent training for Iron Man, and the extra time he’d spent with Happy in the ring, Tony’s reflexes might’ve been just a bit slower. As it was, he was lucky they were as fast as they were, even if they almost weren’t fast enough. The minute Tony touched Sam, the kid came alive in a flurry of motion. Tony didn’t even see where the knife came from. One second Sam was moving and the next the knife was slashing Tony’s direction.

Tony jerked himself backward in just enough time to avoid a knife to the gut. He fell back, already scrambling backward even as he hit the ground, until there were at least a few feet between them. “Woah, woah, woah!”

“ _Get back_!” Sam snarled out at him. “ _Just get back!_ ” He had shoved himself back until he was mostly wedged between the bed and the nightstand next to it, the blanket loose on the floor and the knife held in what even Tony could see was a pretty expert grip. The fact that a _ten-year-old_ knew how to do that only made the scene all the more heartbreaking.

Jesus _fuck_ – this kid was going to kill him, and Tony wasn’t referring to the knife. He stared at those too-wide hazel eyes and knew that Sam wasn’t seeing him right then. He was seeing something else. Something _worse_.

“Sam,” Tony kept his voice pitched low and even. He tried to emulate the steady and calm tone that JARVIS used with him when an anxiety attack gripped him tight and wouldn’t let go. “Listen to me, Sam. Listen to my voice. You were having a dream, kiddo. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, and I know you’re scared shitless. Trust me, I _get it_. But it was just a dream. Whatever it was, it’s not real, not anymore.”

Sam wasn’t lowering the knife, but he wasn’t trying to shut Tony up, either. Tony chose to take that as a good sign and keep talking.

“All that shit that’s scaring you right now? It’s all coming from your head. Maybe it was just a nightmare, or maybe it’s something that happened before, I don’t know. What I do know is you’re not there anymore. You’re here with me – Tony Stark. We’re at my home in Malibu, where Loki brought you earlier, and you’re in your new bedroom. Can you feel it? You’ve got the nightstand right there that you’re touching, and the bed on the other side. Can you feel them?”

Little by little, Tony could see as his words sank in. As Sam slowly drew his head from the nightmare that had gripped at him so tightly.

It was easy to see the exact moment that Sam realized what was going on. His eyes cleared, and then they drifted down to the knife that he was still holding. Thanks to JARVIS, who had turned the lights up just the slightest bit, it was easy for Tony to see as the horror hit Sam just seconds before he dropped the knife.

It didn’t get any better when Sam brought those horrified eyes up to him. “I-I’m sorry!” Sam blurted out. He looked even more terrified than before. Though Tony hadn’t thought it was possible, Sam was pushing himself back further, tucking himself into his hiding spot even more, all the while still trying to stammer out those shaking words “I’m s-s-s-sorry! I’m s-sorry, M-Mr. St-Stark!”

“No, hey, no, Sam, you’re all right.” Now that the knife was no longer in Sam’s hand, Tony was free to move forward again. However, he did make sure to knock the knife away under the bed for the moment. They could deal with that later. Now that it was out of Sam’s reach, Tony shifted himself down onto his knees a few feet in front of Sam, and he held his hands up in a gesture of peace. “You’re okay, Sam. It’s fine. Look – you didn’t get me. Not a single mark in sight. I mean, my ass hurts a little from jumping back like that, but it’s nothing I haven’t…”

“Sir!”

JARVIS’s sharp voice cut Tony off before he ended up sharing way more than he should’ve with a kid. Color flooded Tony’s cheeks. “Ah, right. Not exactly talk for little ears.” He shot a sheepish look over at Sam, surprised to see that the kid looked a tiny bit more relaxed. “Sorry, kid. I’m not used to talking to midgets. It’s gonna take some practice.” Realizing what his word choice had left open, he lifted a finger and pointed it at Sam, affecting a mock stern look. “One joke about my size, Tiny Tim – I dare you.”

He was pleased to see some of the fear recede from Sam’s face. The boy actually gave Tony a small – barely there – ghost of a smile.

Tony returned it with a smile of his own. “You think you’re ready to climb on out of there? It doesn’t look all that comfortable.” When Sam instantly tensed, clearly not ready to get out of his hiding spot quite yet, Tony just shrugged his shoulder like it was no big deal. “That’s cool. Sometimes I don’t want to come out after my nightmares, either. Stay in there if it makes you feel better. I’m just gonna hang out up here on the bed, though, cause this floor isn’t as comfortable as it should be. J, make a note of that. We need to make more comfortable floors. Why isn’t there a soft carpet or something in here?”

There was no way Tony could miss how Sam relaxed the longer that Tony babbled. Which, hey, that was definitely something Tony could do. So, he hauled himself up until he was lying down on Sam’s bed, and then he flopped onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Coming down from panic attacks and nightmares was always easier for him if he didn’t have someone staring at him, though having them _there_ helped. Tony only hoped it did the same thing for Sam. Then, with his head just barely starting to hang off the side of the bed, Tony just let himself talk.

He started off just talking about nothing much at first. The projects he’d been working on, the improvements he wanted to make to the Iron Man suit, little things like that. Somehow it seemed to transition into talk about Loki and magic and that whole crazy mess of things.

Tony didn’t start paying too much attention to his words until Sam suddenly popped up beside him, his eyes wide and bright in his face, exclaiming “ _Really_?”

It took a second for Tony to backtrack. He ran through what he’d just been saying until he caught up with himself. _Oh_. He’d mentioned the brother that Loki had brought up, and how he’d found the number to the place that had him so Sam could call. “Really,” Tony finally said back, tilting his head to smile at the kid. “From what Loki told me, you two are pretty close. I’m not going to keep you two from talking to each other or seeing each other. Maybe we’ll be able to get him out for a visit once everything gets all settled down.”

Even if it hadn’t been something simple, seeing the joy that lit up Sam’s whole face had Tony promising to make damn sure that these two got to see one another.

He wasn’t prepared for it when Sam flung himself forward and awkwardly wrapped himself around Tony’s head in a half-hug, half-smothering gesture. “Thank you, thank you, _thank you_!”

There was a second where Tony froze a little. He wasn’t used to other people initiating contact with him,. Not unless they were adults, and it was meant as a prelude to sex, or sex itself. But this? This spontaneous, emotional touch – one of genuine honesty and thanks? That was something Tony wasn’t used to.

Still, he couldn’t deny the warm feeling it gave him. Awkwardly, Tony reached a hand up and patted at Sam’s back. “No problem, squirt. No problem at all.”


End file.
